


Three Across

by Sealgirl



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Crime, Gen, Ghosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28840011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sealgirl/pseuds/Sealgirl
Summary: Sam gets a very odd tip-off.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Three Across

**Author's Note:**

> A/N – Set sometime in the second series. Written for the spook_me Halloween challenge.

Three Across  


It has been a very slow few weeks, and Sam is bored. Not that he hasn’t anything to do, the mountains of paperwork and statements and files that he is sorting through is necessary work. But it’s dull. And he’s bored.

  
Everyone’s bored.

  
Even Gene is bored. He is lurking in his office, with the door shut, but Sam can still hear vague mutterings and the occasional swear word. That has been going on all morning.

  
Annie is working with Phyllis down on the front desk, Chris is buried in paperwork too and Ray is dozing off in one corner. There is a particularly loud curse and Sam glances to the Guv’s office. There is a stomping noise and Gene pokes his head around the door.

  
‘Oi! Dorothy! “A fair man’s retreat before the Saints time”.’

  
Sam frowns.

  
‘Um, s-sorry Guv?’

  
‘Five letters.’

  
‘What?’

  
‘“A fair man’s retreat before the Saints time”. Three across.’ The Guv produces a copy of The Times from behind the door and waves it at him. ‘Five letters.’

  
‘Um…’ The clue somehow seems less important than the fact the Guv does The Times crossword, and Sam finds it hard to concentrate.

  
But Gene only waits for a moment before scowling at him.

  
‘So much for Hyde know-how!’ he scoffs and disappears back into his office and lets the door slam shut the door behind him. Sam stares at the door for a few moments, frowning, wondering how much more boredom Gene can take before he goes mad and breaks something.

  
Just as he turns back to his work, there is a noise behind him and someone speaks.

  
‘Ghost.’

  
Sam whips round in surprise. Behind him is a rather frail-looking man, maybe just over fifty, with a wooden walking stick and dishevelled clothes. None of the others in CID even acknowledge him, and he looks politely at Sam, waiting for a response.

  
‘I’m sorry? Um, “ghost”?’

  
‘Three across. The Times. It’s “Ghost”.’

  
‘Oh? Oh, the crossword.’ Sam smiles. ‘I’ll be sure to tell him, later. So… how can I help?’

  
‘I need to report something rather unpleasant,’ says the man. For all his downbeat clothing, the accent is neat and clipped, almost public-school, he holds himself upright in a very proper manner as well. ‘I’m afraid, well, I’m afraid there might have been a murder.’

  
Sam is surprised, but tries not to show it too much.

‘Take a seat, Mr…’

  
‘Major Paul Heartman. I’m at Number 42. It’s just by the Rivergreen Estate. You know, the one with the graveyard.’

  
Sam nods as the Major sits down opposite Sam, and leans forward.

  
‘I shouldn’t really be here, I know,’ he says quietly. ‘It’s just, well, it seemed the right thing to do. You see, I saw him.’

  
‘Who?’ asks Sam, pulling his notebook out of his desk, and starting to write. ‘Doing what?’  


‘There are some kids who have been trespassing on the graveyard. They do it every so often. Not what I would call “fun”, but never mind!’ The man gives a low chuckle. ‘Last night there were a few more than usual, a couple of gangs, I think. There have been a lot of gangs round there this summer. They like frightening the elderly residents in the estate. Making noises, that sort of thing. This morning, not long ago, there was a set to, some shouting. All the residents heard it. I had just gone to investigate when one of them, a short, blonde young man, with a yellow shirt and a pair of those awful biker boots ran straight past me. I think I gave him a bit of a fright as he went careering into the nearby wall, on the south side, and ran off. But he dropped something, a knife I saw it was. It was covered in blood.’

  
Sam has been writing all this down in his notebook, trying to put all the facts in order in his mind, and trying to form a mental image. He knows the area, but not well, and certainly not as well as the Guv.

  
‘Did you touch it?’

  
‘No, I thought it would be better to leave that sort of thing to the professionals.’

  
‘What makes you think there had been a murder? I mean if you just saw the knife, then…’

  
The Major shrugs.

  
‘I suppose I don’t _know_ in the conventional sense, but something terrible happen there this morning. And the young man I saw wasn’t looking well, he was shaking, he was scared. He had blood on him too.’ The Major looks directly at him, an enquiring expression on his face. ‘Whatever had happened, Inspector, that boy was scared. Someone had died. So I came straight over.’

  
‘To the police?’

  
‘I’m not really fit to go chasing after gangs these days,’ says the Major with a depreciating laugh. ‘None of us are. And I’m sure there would have been witnesses in the estate as well.’

  
‘I see.’

  
‘I really would go and have a look, Inspector,’ he says.

  
For a moment Sam just looks at the man. There is something odd going on but he can’t quite figure out what it is. Under other circumstances he would have demanded more information, and questioned the Major more; but the prospect of having something to _do_ , outside CID was too tempting. There are all going to go stir-crazy if they don’t get out of there!

  
So Sam nods. Even if this _is_ just a wind up, at least it would give him something to do! It would probably be worth the agro from the others just to have some sort of activity.

  
‘I’ll go and get the Guv,’ he says.

  
‘Oh! You don’t think he’s too caught up in the crossword for this?’

  
Sam gives a half-smile, but he’s not entirely sure if the Major was making a joke or not. Sam stands, pulling his jacket off the back of his chair.

  
‘You know where I am if you need me,’ says the Major. ‘Number 42!’

  
‘Well, if you wait, you can come with us,’ says Sam. ‘You can show us.’

  
He doesn’t wait for an answer, but turns and heads off to Gene’s office. He knocks and opens the door. Gene is sitting there, his feet up on the table, and his head right back, with the paper over his face. He’s snoring.

  
‘I didn’t know it was such a good read!’ says Sam with a chuckle.

  
Gene jerks slightly, knocking a cup of cold coffee off the desk. The crack as it hits the floor wakes him up completely. The instant he sees Sam, he glares.

  
‘Oi, Tyler!’ he snaps. ‘Didn’t they teach you how to knock in Hyde?’

  
‘I did, but you were otherwise engaged!’

  
‘Very funny, Les Dawson! What do you want, anyway?’

  
‘Someone just reported a murder,’ Gene’s eyes lit up, and he was moving before Sam had finished the sentence, ‘at the graveyard by the Rivergreen Estate.’

  
Gene picks up his coat and heads like a whirlwind towards the door.

  
‘You can fill in the details on the way,’ he says, marching past Sam and out into CID.

  
‘The Major is just …’ started Sam.

  
There was no one there. The office was empty but for a dazed-looking Chris and a sleeping Ray. Gene was already heading for the lift, and fortunately not listening properly to what Sam was saying.

  
‘Get moving you two,’ he bellows across the room to his subordinates. ‘Come on! We’ve got a job to do.’ Chris and Ray barely twitched.

  
Gene scowled and slammed the door of CID as loudly as he could, making the two stupefied detectives jump.

  
‘You remember,’ snaps Gene, ‘Work. What we do. What we get paid for! Now get your arses out of this door! Now!’

  
Chris and Ray push themselves out of their seats, muttering.

  
‘Did you see where the Major went?’ Sam asks Chris as they walk up.

  
Chris shakes his head, giving him an odd look.

  
‘Don’t know what you mean, Boss,’ he says. ‘Didn’t see anyone.’

  
‘What? What sort of detective are you?’ Sam asks.

  
‘Sorry, Boss. I was busy, like, with the files.’

  
‘Tyler!’ shouted Gene from the lift, ‘Stop fannying around and Come! On!’

* * *

  
As Sam sits in the speeding Cortina, he stares out of the window, wondering what was going on.

  
He had said as little as possible during the journey, only giving Gene the barest outline of what he knows. The Guv is too excited at the prospect of some sort of activity to ask too many questions, and Sam deliberately hadn’t said anything about the disappearing Major.

  
The more he thinks about it though, the more he grows convinced that the whole thing was just some sort of practical joke. He knows that the others are going to have a field day about vanishing witnesses and murder in the graveyard, so he tries to keep as low a profile as he can for the moment.

  
The Cortina screeches round the final corner and the Guv slams on the brakes, bringing the car up just beside the graveyard entrance.  


Much to everyone’s surprise, there is a bobby waiting by the gate.

  
‘Crikey, you boys are quick!’ he says as they pile out of the car. ‘Only just called this one in!’

  
Gene gives the man a smug, knowing “I’m CID!” grin and marches straight past him through the gates.

  
‘Body’s round the side,’ says the bobby, ‘teenaged boy with stab wounds, a nasty one too…’

  
Sam doesn’t listen to the rest. He’s staring at the wall on the south side. As the Guv and the others move off up the graveyard, Sam walks briskly the other way.

  
The wall is brick, badly chipped and leaning to the right. He looks at it carefully, but at the base there is only a tangle of weeds and nettles.

  
He takes a slow look round behind him, trying to visualise where the Major might have been standing, or the boy running and he moves further up away from the gates, before stooping down. He carefully pushes some of the weeds out of the way, and this time he sees a tiny glint of metal nearby. It’s a knife.

_  
Just as the old boy said._

  
‘But where are you now,’ Sam wonders out loud. He looks up, to the row of council houses just behind the wall. They are part of the Rivergreen Estate. ‘You’ve got to be somewhere.’

  
Sam heads off to the Estate looking for Number 42, but quickly runs into a problem. The Rivergreen Estate itself is huge. There are going to be at least twenty houses with the number 42, probably a lot more. He’s never going to get the chance to visit them all! Instead, he’s logical, and walks down the street that backs onto the graveyard, and find the correctly numbered house.

  
A pinch-faced, middle aged woman opens the door, and scrutinises his warrant card carefully.

  
‘I‘m looking for Major Heartland,’ he says. The woman laughs.

  
‘Dunno who you’ve been talking too,’ she says. ‘But he’s not ‘ere. Never been a Major ‘ere, not as long as it’s been my ‘ouse’

  
Sam asks her about the graveyard and the disturbance anyway, and she tells him roughly what he already knew; that there was shouting and noise in this morning.

  
‘Didn’t you call the police?’ he asks. The woman shakes her head.

  
‘What do you lot care about some young thugs scaring us and making a nuisance of themselves?’ she asks. ‘We’ve complained so many times I’ve lost count!’

  
There is no more information to be gleaned, so Sam says goodbye, and walks back to the graveyard, thinking hard, trying to remember ever morsel of information that the Major had given him. He doesn’t really understand, but he’s sure that he’s missed something obvious but vital.

  
Just after he has passed through the gates, he hears an indistinct shout.

  
A teenage with long, blonde hair and a loud shirt is racing down the pathway to the gate. Sam does a double take; it’s a yellow shirt! And biker boots!

  
He races forward, moving to head the boy off. The sprint is short, as Sam is fit and the boy is tiring.

  
At last Sam is close enough to rugby-tackle the teenager to the ground. He’s cursing and swearing and has a wide, panicked look in his eye. Sam can see small flecks of what looks like blood on the boy’s shirt.

  
They fight and roll, but Sam knows what he’s doing. The teenager is already cuffed by the time Gene and Chris, and Ray eventually, come puffing along the path.

  
‘Well done Boss!’ says Chris breathlessly. ‘He almost got away from us!’

  
‘Almost?’

  
‘Well… um… caught me by surprise. Hiding in one of them gardens.’

  
Sam looks at Chris with a rueful smile, still pinning the angry teenager to the ground. Gene looks down at the boy with an ugly sneer on his face.

  
‘Right scumbag, it’s the station for you!’

  
‘Fuck off, Hunt!’ shouts the boy. ‘You ain’t got nuffink, no weapon, nuffink!’

  
‘Except that bloodied knife down by the south wall,’ says Sam.

  
The boy turns to him, looking white. He closes his eyes and slums back, defeated.

  
Gene laughs.

  
‘Looks like we’ve got the right person after all, gentlemen!’

  
Chris and Ray pull the boy up off the ground, and Chris takes him off down the path to the waiting car. Gene watches them for a moment before reaching down to help Sam off the ground.

  
‘Good job,’ says Gene. ‘And here was me thinking you’d made it all up just to get out of the paperwork.’ Sam gives a slight laugh, not sure if Gene is serious. ‘Say sorry to the lady, please.’

  
‘Pardon?’ says Sam, confused. Gene is looking past him.

  
‘Mrs Prescott,’ says the Guv, pointing. There is a statue of a lady on top of the headstone just behind him. He hadn’t noticed it before, he’d been too busy concentrating on the collar.

  
‘Prescott?’ he asks.

  
‘Mrs Madeline Prescott,’ says Gene. ‘A nice old lady who lived down the road from my mother-in-law.’

  
‘So you know the dead as well as the living round here?’

  
‘Don’t be stupid, Tyler, I’ve been to many a funeral in this graveyard. This lady has been here at Plot 17 for ten years.’ Gene smiles at the statue and gives a little bow. ‘Always good with the crossword, that one. Sorry love, don’t have any flowers today.’

_  
The plots are numbered,_ Sam thinks, as the cold and uncomfortable feeling inside his grows. He looks down to the rest of the graveyard. The plots are numbered, there would be a Number 42 somewhere. Maybe belonging to a Major Heartland…?

  
Suddenly he shakes his head. That was just ridiculous! But it has reminded him of something else the Major said.

  
‘Ghost!’ says Sam smugly. ‘“A fair man’s retreat before the Saints time”. It’s “ghost”.’

  
Gene looks pleased, but extremely surprised, and pulls the Times out of his coat pocket to check the back page.

  
‘Ghost, eh… that fits in fine.’ He grins widely at Sam. ‘Well, we all seem to be having a very good day!’ He tucks the paper under his arms and sticks his hands in his pockets. He looks round. ‘Time, Ray?’

  
‘Almost twelve, Guv.’

  
Sam checks his own watch.

  
‘It’s only ten thirty.’

  
‘Close enough,’ says Gene. ‘The Railway Arms it is! Good job you got that tip, Sam, or we’d never get something to drink.’

  
Sam smiles, and they turn to leave, but something, he’s not sure quite what, compels him to look back.

  
But there was nothing different. The statue was still there, same pose, same look… except… He was sure it hadn’t been _smiling_ a moment ago.

  
He turns back to Gene.  


‘Yes,’ says Sam. ‘I definitely need a drink.’

* * *

The End


End file.
